


naked and covered in bees

by superhoney



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Beekeeper Castiel, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Instagram brought us back together, M/M, Naked and Covered In Bees, Pining Dean, Reunions, Social Media, Teacher Dean, Time Skips, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-13 06:51:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9111304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/superhoney/pseuds/superhoney
Summary: Dean hasn't thought about his old friend Castiel Milton in months. Though they were close in college, they've drifted apart since Cas moved to New York after graduation. But then one little Instagram post brings all of Dean's memories flooding back, and he finds himself wishing he'd had the courage to tell Cas how he really felt about him before he left.God, he's being dramatic about this whole thing. Dean's just going to blame it on the bees.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short little two-part story I've been meaning to write for awhile, and it seemed appropriate as we head into the new year. This chapter is a bit angsty, but the next one will be much happier, I promise! The second part should be up early next week.
> 
> Thanks to Anna, as always, for reading this over and catching my silly mistakes.

Dean tries not to spend too much time on social media. He teaches high schoolers, after all, and those kids are devious. If he leaves too big of a footprint online, they’ll find it for sure. 

But it’s a rainy Sunday morning, and he’s been fighting a cold for the past few days, and he’s having a hard time concentrating on his usual TV shows or books. He gave up on attempting to grade papers awhile ago-- the sentences and statements his students have produced seem to make even less sense than usual. 

So here he is, sprawled out on the couch with a warm blanket tucked around him, casually scrolling through his annoyingly non-chronological Instagram feed. Mostly it’s pictures of his friend Charlie in some LARPing costume or another, or Sam’s goofy selfies with his girlfriend Jess in front of a stunning California sunset. 

But then Dean stumbles across something that makes him sit upright, the blanket tumbling gracelessly to the floor.

Castiel Milton, old friend and former object of Dean’s unrequited affection. Naked, and covered in bees. 

All the important bits are covered, but still. Cas is standing on what looks like a rooftop, buck naked, strategically holding one of those screen things over his crotch area, and it’s swarming with bees. Dean doesn’t know whether to be aroused or terrified for him. 

There’s no actual caption on the photo, just a few tags: #urbanbeekeeping, #bees, #nyc. Tags that Dean has seen Castiel use on other posts, but none of those also featured him in all his glory, somehow looking even better than the last time Dean saw him, just over five years ago now.

Dean hasn’t thought about Castiel in months, but now, with just that one picture, all the memories come rushing back.

***

Dean is nervous, though he tries not to show it. It’s a bit weird going from high school to college without leaving town, especially because most of his friends have moved away for school. The KU campus is big, and he feels more than a little bit lost in the crowd. Maybe if he had moved into the dorms like he wanted… but there’s no sense dwelling on what could have been. He adjusts his backpack on his shoulders and takes a deep breath. He can do this.

His first few classes are alright, though he wishes they would get to the real material already instead of just going over the syllabus in every class. Apparently, he’s not the only one who feels this way. When the professor for his Intro to American Literature class pulls up a PowerPoint presentation explaining the course structure in excruciating detail, Dean hears a heavy sigh from behind him. 

He turns around to see a dark-haired guy who looks vaguely familiar. Dean thinks they have a few classes together, though they’re all so big it’s a bit hard to be sure. 

“I’m paying thousands of dollars a year for this?” the guy mutters, and Dean chuckles under his breath. 

“I know, right,” he whispers back.

The guy looks at him, and a crooked grin spreads across his face. “Castiel Milton,” he says, extending his hand for Dean to shake. “I think I’ve seen you in a few of my other classes.”

“Dean Winchester,” Dean replies, shaking Castiel’s hand firmly. “I’m sorry for our joint suffering.”

“Well, Dean,” Castiel says, “at least we know we’ll have someone to gets notes from if these classes stay this boring and one of us falls asleep.”

Dean laughs and turns back around, feeling rather proud of himself. He’s pretty sure he just made his first new friend at college.

***

Dean pulls himself back to the present and clicks on Cas’ profile. He scrolls through older posts: mostly artistic shots of the New York skyline, a few pictures of meals or elaborate cocktails, the occasional selfie with various friends. And yeah, Dean knows that Instagram is carefully curated to highlight only the best parts of a person’s life, but it looks like Cas is happy.

Dean really hopes so. It’s all he’s ever wanted for his friend. 

They spent all four years of college going through the same classes, both of them majoring in English Literature. But while Dean knew from the start that he wanted to be a teacher, Castiel was indecisive. He picked the major because he liked the material, not because of the career opportunities it afforded. Eventually, he confessed to Dean that what he really wanted to do was write. 

Dean had read almost all of Cas’ essays over the years, and the guy was talented. But talent never seemed to be a guarantee of success in the world, and especially not in publishing. So like many other aspiring writers before him, Castiel packed up and moved away to New York after graduation to chase down his dreams.

Dean hasn’t seen him since.

They talked a lot at first, but time and distance take their toll, and aside from occasional birthday wishes or comments on each other’s posts, they haven’t kept in touch. Dean wishes he had tried harder, but he had his own reasons for putting some space between them.

Namely the fact that he had been nursing a giant crush on Castiel since their junior year.

***

It takes Dean awhile to realize that what he feels for Castiel is more than friendship. He’s not in denial about his sexuality or anything-- Dean’s quite comfortable with the fact that he’s attracted to people of various genders, and he’s hooked up with guys before. But Cas is the first guy that Dean’s ever pictured himself in an actual relationship with, and it’s a lot to take in at first.

But when they’re sitting there in Cas’ dorm room, both of them with huge dark circles under their eyes as they cram for their midterms and Dean can hear Cas cursing under his breath about the overly male-dominated reading lists for all of their classes, Dean finally understands.

He has feelings for Cas. Pretty deep ones, too. 

He doesn’t say anything, though. He doesn’t know how Cas would react. And he should probably think about it for a bit longer before he goes and says something that could change their friendship forever.

“Dean?” Cas calls, lifting his head from his book.

“Yeah, Cas?” Dean replies, his heart thudding in his chest. It’s a good thing Castiel can’t read his mind.

“Pass the highlighters?” Cas requests, and Dean’s heartbeat returns to normal. Just another night. Just another exam. They’ll get through this like they always have.

He considers saying something at the end of the year, but then Cas starts dating Balthazar, who’s studying at KU over the summer on exchange from England. Dean doesn’t think he’s good enough for Cas, but Cas seems happy, so Dean does his best to be supportive.

And then by the time Balthazar goes back to England and Dean no longer has to endure the sight of him in his ridiculously low-cut V-neck shirts draped all over Cas, Dean is dating Lisa, who’s gorgeous and sweet and supportive. But Dean just can’t give her what she wants, because he’s still hung up on Cas. 

So things with Lisa fizzle out by the middle of senior year, and Dean thinks to himself, it’s now or never, and he makes plans with Cas to hang out on the last day of exams for the fall semester. He’s going to do it, he’s going to tell Cas how he feels. 

They’re sprawled out comfortably on Cas’ bed like so many other nights before, sipping on the beers Dean brought with him, a slightly fancier brand than he would normally buy. Dean takes a long drink and then puts the beer down, wiping his suddenly sweaty hands on his jeans. But before he can speak, Cas rolls over to face him, his expression serious.

“Can I tell you something?” Cas asks. 

Dean just nods, his mouth dry.

“I decided what to do after graduation,” Cas says, his excitement evident in his voice. “I talked to my cousin Anna, and she’s got an extra room in her apartment in New York. That’s where all the great writers get their start, right?”

He’s looking at Dean with such happiness in his eyes that Dean can hardly stand it. He forces a smile, hoping that Cas can’t see that all his hopes and dreams for their future together are shattering. 

“That’s awesome, Cas,” he says. “You’ll do great. I know you will.”

“Thanks,” Cas murmurs, then he flings himself at Dean in an enthusiastic hug. “I’ll miss you, though.”

“Yeah,” Dean says around the lump in his throat. “I’ll miss you too, Cas.”

***

It’s funny, how a single photo can trigger such an intense emotional response, Dean thinks to himself, staring at the grin on Cas’ face in the picture. He looks good. _Really_ good. He’s clearly kept up with his running routine, and his skin is tanned, probably from spending time up on that roof tending to his bees.

Dean isn’t lonely, exactly, but he is getting to the point where he’s sick and tired of people asking him when he’s going to settle down. He’s only twenty-seven, for Christ’s sake. Far from old. And he’s got a good job teaching English to teenagers who pretend to be indifferent but have good hearts and strong brains under their affected disillusionment. He has a nice little house not far from where he grew up, and he visits his parents for Sunday dinners every week. He Skypes with Sam as often as possible, and he’s been saving up for another visit to California soon. 

He has friends, other teachers at the school who he meets up with for beers and burgers on Friday nights. He even goes on dates sometimes, though none of them have led to anything long-term.

Dean is doing just fine, thank you very much. Or at least he was, until one damn Instagram post completely knocked him off his feet. Maybe he can blame it on his cold. He clearly isn’t thinking rationally. 

His phone rings, and he drops it in surprise. He scrambles to pick it back up without looking to see who’s calling.

“Hello?” he says.

“Hey, Dean!” Charlie’s voice is cheerful, as always. “How are you feeling? Any better since Friday?”

Dean smiles. “Not really, but not any worse either. I’d kinda prefer it to go one way or the other rather than this endless in-between, you know?”

“I know,” Charlie replies, sympathetic. “Anyways, I was just checking up on you! Need me to bring you anything? Soup? Tea? Extended editions of the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy?”

“As if I don’t already have my own,” Dean says haughtily. “No, I’m good. Thanks, though, Charlie.”

“If you say so! See you tomorrow?”

“See you tomorrow,” Dean tells her, and ends the call. 

He’s lucky to have people like Charlie in his life. She’s a few years younger than him, but they’ve been friends ever since she joined the team at Lawrence High School, teaching computers and technology. They bonded over the crappy coffee in the teacher’s lounge, then over shared interests in pop culture, and that was that.

She’s the closest friend Dean’s had since...well, since Cas. 

He’s never been attracted to Charlie the way he was to Cas, though, never felt the same romantic yearning, and not just because he knows she’s strictly into other girls. His friendship with Charlie is different. Easier, for the most part. 

But Dean thinks he would take the hard parts back if it meant having Cas in his life again.

***

It’s a particularly rough day in February when Cas gets the phone call. He and Dean are just leaving their last class of the day, talking animatedly about potential topics for their upcoming essays. Cas’ phone rings and he looks at it with annoyance, making Dean smile fondly. He apologizes to Dean, and then answers the call.

As Dean watches, the blood drains from Cas’ face, leaving his eyes huge against his suddenly pale face. Dean tenses, waiting to hear what’s wrong. Cas nods a few times, then says “thank you,” and ends the call. He lowers his arm and just stands there, gazing off into the distance.

“Cas?” Dean asks tentatively, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. “Cas, man, you’re freaking me out. What’s going on?”

Cas draws in a shuddering breath. “There was an accident,” he says, toneless. “My father...at least it was quick. The doctors say he didn’t suffer.”

“Shit,” Dean mutters under his breath, then sweeps Cas into a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry.”

Cas is stiff in his arms, so Dean drags him along the short path that leads back to his dorm room. He bustles around, making some tea, and calls Cas’ older brother Gabriel, who also lives in Lawrence. He takes down all the information about funeral arrangements while keeping a careful eye on Cas, who’s just sitting on the edge of the bed, his face impassive. 

When he’s done talking to Gabriel, Dean approaches his friend cautiously. This isn’t the time to be thinking about how much Dean feels for him. Cas needs a friend right now, just like Dean needed a friend a few weeks ago when Sam got early acceptance to Stanford and Dean had a minor freak-out, thinking that their relationship would never be the same. Cas supported him through that, and now it’s Dean’s turn to do the same.

He sits beside Cas, their legs brushing against other. “Tell me what you need,” he says softly. “Anything, Cas.”

Cas’ face is turned away from him, but Dean hears him sniffle, and then he’s throwing himself into Dean’s arms as the tears begin to fall in earnest. Dean wraps him in his arms and runs a soothing hand through his hair.

“I never even liked him very much,” Cas admits, his voice wrecked. “We barely saw him. He was always away on business, never had much time for us. But now…”

“It’s okay,” Dean says, knowing that it isn’t true, but needing to say something anyways. “It’s gonna be okay, Cas.”

***

Dean should have tried harder to stay in touch with Cas after college. They weren’t just casual friends, after all. They supported each other through some of their hardest times. But he thought it would be easier on himself if he let Cas go, if he cut ties neatly so that his feelings could fade away. But Dean’s older now, and maybe a little bit wiser. He knows now that things don’t have to be so either/or.

Dean stares at the picture for a little while longer. He could pull up Castiel’s other accounts, see what he’s been up to. Facebook might offer some more concrete information. But really, what would be the point? Their lives have gone in completely different directions. It might be nice to say hi, to chat for awhile, but in the end, Dean would probably only end up missing Cas more.

He debates calling Sam, even though it’s pretty early on the West coast. Cas and Sam always got along well, and Sam was one of the few people who knew how Dean really felt about his best friend. Sam always insisted that Cas had more-than-friendly feelings for Dean as well, but Dean would just scoff and dismiss his statements. 

Sam would be just as supportive now, Dean knows. But he wouldn’t have any real advice to give. There’s nothing that Dean can do to change the situation that he and Cas have found themselves in, living so far apart and without any real connection to each other any longer. 

So, like a coward, he does what he’s done for the last five years: he likes the post and leaves a brief comment. _Lookin’ good, Cas_ , he writes. It’s the truth, after all. Cas does look good, even if he is naked and covered in bees.

And then Dean puts his phone away and vows to push all thoughts of Castiel Milton and his stupidly perfect body and his stupidly perfect smile and those stupidly blue eyes out of his mind once and for all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is loosely inspired by real events: I do have a friend who posted a picture like this to his Instagram account, but pretty much everything after that is made up. It's a very nice picture, though.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite the fact that it’s the month of his birthday, Dean kinda hates January. 

Christmas is over, but it’s still cold, and the days are short. The kids he teaches are generally listless, any energy they’ve acquired over the holidays soon disappearing again. And on top of that, there’s all the tired old bullshit about renewal and resolutions that people won’t shut up about. 

Yeah, January sucks.

Which is why, on this particular Friday evening about halfway through the month, Dean decides that he deserves a treat. He didn’t go out with Charlie and her new girlfriend Dorothy, preferring to give them some time alone, so he’s spent most of the night alone in his little house with Netflix. But none of the food or beverages in his cupboards are appealing to him right now.

He wants hot chocolate. Specifically, hot chocolate from Trickster Coffee, the little cafe owned and operated by Gabriel Milton.

Dean doesn’t go there often, because it’s not on the route from his house to the school he teaches at. But when he does, he always orders their hot chocolate: rich and creamy, with just a hint of cinnamon. Now that he’s got it on his mind, he can’t stop thinking about it.

So he pauses the episode of Star Trek he’s been watching and throws his old leather jacket on over his plain black t-shirt, then grabs his keys and heads out the door. 

He hums along to the radio as he drives, his mood already improving just by thinking about what’s waiting for him. Sam would probably tease him for his sudden cheerfulness, but Sam probably doesn’t even drink hot chocolate anymore, the dirty hippie. 

There are a few other cars parked outside Trickster Coffee, but not too many. Dean pushes the door open, breathing in the delicious smells: coffee, pastries, sugar and spice and everything nice. 

Gabriel might be short, and kind of annoying sometimes, but he sure knows his stuff. 

“Dean!” Gabriel beams at him from the other side of the counter. “Long time no see. Happy New Year!”

They’re almost two weeks into January already, but okay. “Yeah, happy New Year to you too,” Dean replies. Doesn’t hurt to be polite to the guy making your drink. 

“What brought you over this way on this particular night?” Gabriel asks, resting his forearms on the counter and looking inquisitively at Dean. 

“I really want a hot chocolate,” Dean admits. 

A small smile spreads across Gabriel’s face. “Well, then, you came to the right place!” he declares. 

He turns away to get started on the drink, while Dean glances idly around the small cafe. There are a few girls in the armchairs by the fireplace, a middle-aged couple at one of the small tables by the window...and just to the left of the chalkboard that displays the menu, right in Dean’s line of sight, is a picture of Castiel, once again naked and covered in bees. 

Dean lets out a strangled gasp, and Gabriel turns around to check on him, his expression concerned. He registers where Dean’s looking and laughs.

“Isn’t it great?” Gabriel says with glee, coming over to stand beside Dean.

That’s one word for it, Dean supposes. It’s a slightly different shot than the one Castiel posted to Instagram three months ago, but close enough that Dean assumes they were taken at the same time. Now that he’s looking at it more closely, Dean realizes it’s actually a calendar. Cas is Mr. January, smiling and tanned and so very, very naked. 

“Isn’t that a little, uh, racy for a family establishment?” Dean finally asks.

Gabriel ponders this for a second, then shrugs. “Nah,” he says. “Everything’s covered. And besides, according to Castiel, the whole point is to show how cool and safe beekeeping really is. So the more people who see it and ask about it, the better.”

Well, it’s definitely eye-catching. Dean can’t seem to tear his own gaze away from it for long.

“Yeah, I think he gave it to me as a joke, but the joke was on him when I actually hung the thing up,” Gabriel continues. “He keeps threatening to take it down, but he hasn’t yet. I think he’s secretly proud of it.”

Wait, what?

“How would he take it down from all the way in New York?” Dean asks. “The power of his mind?”

Gabriel gives him a strange look. “He’s not in New York anymore,” he says slowly. “He moved back here right after New Year’s. He’s crashing in the apartment above the cafe.”

Cas is back? Dean isn’t entirely sure what to do with that information. His eyes flit upward involuntarily, as though he could somehow see right through the ceiling and confirm the truth of Gabriel’s words.

Gabriel snorts. “Yep, still smitten, I see,” he mutters under his breath. Then he picks up the broom that’s resting against the back wall and thumps on the ceiling with it.

“What are you doing,” Dean says, panicked. 

“It’s our little signal,” Gabriel grins. “I’m letting him use the apartment rent-free, so he has to run errands for me whenever I demand. This is more fun than just texting him.”

Before Dean can make a run for it, there’s the sound of footsteps on the back staircase, and then Cas is walking in with messy hair and a frown on his face. He starts to say something to Gabriel, but then freezes, catching sight of Dean.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean says weakly. He can’t come up with anything else.

“Dean,” Cas whispers, his eyes going wide. They’re just as blue as Dean remembers, but somehow even more beautiful. Cas grew up good.

“I, uh, didn’t know you were back,” Dean says, struggling to fill the silence.

“About two weeks now,” Cas replies. “I was going to get in touch, but I…”

He trails off, looking imploringly at Dean, and Dean understands. Cas didn’t know if it would be too weird. They’ve barely spoken in years, and Cas wouldn’t want to assume that their friendship could pick up exactly where it had left off.

“It’s okay,” Dean says softly. “I’m just glad I ran into you now.”

He and Cas continue to stare at each other until Gabriel clears his throat loudly, interrupting their moment. “Here’s your hot chocolate, Dean,” he says with a wink. “On the house. Now go sit down and stop blocking the counter, would you?”

‘Thanks, Gabe,” Dean murmurs. “Cas? You wanna join me while I drink this, maybe catch up a little?”

His heart is beating faster than usual. It’s just a casual chat between friends who haven’t seen each other in awhile, he reminds himself. Nothing to get worked up over.

Cas smiles at him. “I’d like that.”

So they move over to one of the little tables, and yeah, Dean deliberately picks the one in the corner, tucked away from everyone else. He sort of wants Cas all to himself. 

“So,” Cas says, folding his hands under his chin. “Tell me about the past few years, Dean.”

Dean laughs, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Where to begin.”

Cas shrugs. “You’re teaching, Gabriel mentioned?”

Work. That’s a safe subject. “Yeah,” Dean says, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate. It’s as good as ever, but all his attention is on Cas. “At Lawrence High. English Lit, just like I always wanted.”

“I’m glad,” Cas says with a warm smile. “I bet you’re great at it.”

He always was Dean’s biggest supporter.

“And you?” Dean asks. “How’s the writing life treating you?”

Cas’ face falls slightly, and Dean regrets his question immediately. “Shit, sorry, man. I hope that wasn’t a bad thing to bring up.”

“It’s okay,” Cas says with a little sigh. “It would have come up sooner or later. Writing is...not going well, shall we say. Hence my return to Lawrence and living in the apartment upstairs, subject to Gabriel’s whims.”

Crap. Dean doesn’t know what to say, so he just reaches out and squeezes Cas’ hand lightly for support. “Maybe a change of scenery will do you some good,” he suggests.

“Maybe,” Cas says. He doesn’t move his hand away from Dean’s. “I had a few stories published here and there, but nothing big.”

“I’d love to read them.” It’s the truth. Dean has always enjoyed Cas’ writing, whether it was stories or essays. 

“Really?” Cas asks, sounding uncharacteristically shy. “That sounds great. You always gave me such good feedback.”

They did make a good team, Dean reflects. It’s nice to see how easily they’re falling back into their old habits. 

There’s a brief silence, but it’s a comfortable one. Dean takes another sip of his hot chocolate, admiring the way the hint of stubble on Cas’ jaw accentuates the sharp angles of his face.

“So, what else is new?” Cas asks. He finally removes his hand from under Dean’s, and Dean immediately misses the contact. “Are you….seeing anyone?”

He sounds like he’s trying too hard to be casual about the question. Or maybe Dean’s just projecting.

“Uh, no,” Dean says. “No, I haven’t dated anyone in awhile, actually.” He laughs, a little sheepish. 

“Oh,” is all Cas says, and he won’t meet Dean’s eyes.

“What about you?” Dean asks, striving to match Cas’ casual tone. “You got someone in New York?”

Cas shakes his head. “No,” he replies quietly. “It was….lonely there. Despite it being such a big city, with so many people.”

He goes quiet again, then looks up and meets Dean’s eyes. “I really missed you, Dean.”

Dean draws in a surprised breath. Cas always did have a habit of saying things like that, so blunt and direct that it always took Dean by surprise.

“I missed you too,” he admits. “I’m sorry we lost touch.”

“Me too,” Cas says. “God, Dean, there were so many times I wanted to call you, but I just…”

“Didn’t know how to pick up the phone?” Dean finishes his sentence for him. “Yeah. Same.”

“Silly of us,” Cas says with a humourless laugh. “I don’t know why it seemed so hard, in retrospect.”

Dean shrugs. “What’s past is past.” He finishes the last of his hot chocolate and sets the empty cup down on the table. “But you’re back now.”

“I am,” Cas agrees, and there’s an unreadable expression on his face. It looks hopeful, somehow.

“Hey, we’re almost closing,” Gabriel says, swinging by their table and picking up Dean’s empty cup. “You guys want anything else?”

“No, thank you,” Cas replies, his eyes still fixed firmly on Dean’s face.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, I’m good, Gabe.”

Gabriel sighs and returns to his post behind the counter, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like “idiots.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas?”

“I don’t really want to say goodbye just yet. Would you like to come upstairs, continue our conversation?” Cas’ voice is hesitant, but Dean is already on his feet.

“Definitely,” he says.

Cas leads him up the stairs and Dean tries valiantly not to stare at his ass, but it’s right there, and Cas’ jeans cling to him so perfectly. Dean almost trips and misses a step, it’s such a distracting sight.

Cas unlocks the door at the top of the stairs and gestures for Dean to enter, then follows behind, flicking the lights on as he does. It’s a small but cozy apartment, with a kitchen that opens directly onto the living room. 

“It’s not much, but compared to my place in New York, it’s practically a palace,” Cas says, settling onto the worn blue sofa and gesturing for Dean to join him.

“Yeah, I hear that about the city,” Dean replies. Feeling bold, he leaves less space between the two of them than he might normally. Cas doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he doesn’t mention it.

“Where are you living these days?” Cas inquires.

“Got a little place not far from my parents’,” Dean says, letting a bit of his pride creep into his voice. “It’s not much, but it’s in good shape, and it’s mine, you know?”

“That sounds wonderful,” Cas says wistfully. “It sounds like you’re exactly where you want to be Dean. Like you got everything you wanted when we were twenty-two.”

Dean just barely keeps himself from saying _not everything_. If he got everything he wanted when he was twenty-two, he wouldn’t be living in that house alone, but with Cas.

Cas’ voice goes bitter. “Whereas I got nothing that I wanted. But it’s my own fault, I suppose. And now here I am, crawling back home in disgrace.”

“Hey,” Dean says firmly. “You are not in disgrace. You’re only twenty-seven, Cas. Just because you might not make one of those stupid “top 25 under 25 lists” doesn’t mean your career as a writer is over.”

“I know that, rationally,” Cas says. “It’s just hard to remember it when I’m staring at a blank page and all I can think about is whether this could be it. My big break.”

He just looks so miserable that Dean can’t help himself. He scoots over on the couch and wraps an arm around Cas’ shoulders, pulling him in close.

Cas lets out a startled noise. “Dean, what are you--” he protests.

“Shut up and let me hug you,” Dean replies.

Cas grumbles a bit more, but then relaxes into the hug, burying his face in Dean’s chest. Their friendship was always a fairly demonstrative one. Both of them grew up with siblings and were accustomed to showing their affection freely. But this feels different, somehow.

Dean rubs soothing circles on Cas’ back, relishing in the way Cas fits perfectly in his arms. It feels right.

“You’re gonna be just fine, Cas,” he says quietly. “Besides, if the writing thing doesn’t work out, you’ve got a bright future ahead as a nude beekeeper-slash-model.”

It was meant to be a joke, but considering their current position, it might be a little bit too suggestive of a statement. Cas pulls away from him slightly, and Dean starts to apologize, but his words are cut off by Cas pressing his mouth to Dean’s in a kiss.

Dean is too surprised to kiss back at first, but once he realizes what’s happening, he’s totally on board with this turn of events. He buries his hands in Cas’ dark hair and returns the kiss with enthusiasm. Cas parts his lips, letting out a little groan that sends twinges of arousal through Dean’s entire body. 

After a few breathless moments, Cas pulls away, resting his forehead against Dean’s. 

“Not that I’m complaining, but what was that for?” Dean asks, struggling to make sense of it all.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Cas admits. “And now I’m back, and you’re here, and you’re saying all the things I’ve needed to hear for so long.”

Dean knows he should just be happy about this, but the small, insecure part of him takes control. “Why did you leave?” he blurts out. “Why did you move to New York and leave me here?”

Cas winces. “I thought I had to,” he explains. “I guess I absorbed too many of those articles about putting yourself and your career first, and I thought that if I stayed, even if I stayed for you, I would regret it eventually. It turned out to be the other way around.”

Cas always was fiercely independent. Dean would never have dreamed of holding him back, but he understands why Cas would have worried about it happening regardless.

“I always cared for you, Dean,” Cas continues. “Even when we were apart. And I know it’s been years, and it’s presumptuous of me to assume we can pick up our friendship right where we left off, let alone start anything romantic, but I want…”

Dean doesn’t let him finish. He’s heard everything he needs to hear. He just surges up and kisses Cas again, letting his actions speak for themselves.

Cas seems to collapse on top of him, maybe out of relief. Dean lets out a little laugh and pulls Cas into a better position so that he’s straddling Dean’s thighs, and Cas goes willingly. He tears his mouth away from Dean’s, and Dean’s about to protest when he feels Cas start kissing down the side of his neck and his protest turns into a pleased moan. 

It’s like Cas knows exactly how to touch him despite the fact that they’ve never done this before. Like it’s intuitive, like it was always meant to end up this way. Dean’s hands slide down Cas’ back before settling at his hips, pulling their torsos more closely together.

With this little distance between them, Dean can feel Cas’ erection against his thigh, and he’s sure Cas can feel him as well. Cas rocks forward deliberately, and Dean curses under his breath, making Cas grin triumphantly. 

There was always a hint of competitiveness in their relationship, and it doesn’t look like that’s changed either. Dean raises an eyebrow at Cas and slowly brings his hand down between them, his intent unmistakable. Cas nods enthusiastically. “Touch me, Dean,” he says, his voice even deeper than usual.

And how could Dean possibly refuse a request like that? He slowly undoes Cas’ fly and presses his hand against his straining cock, watching as Cas’ eyelashes flutter closed with pleasure. He reaches inside Cas’ boxers and strokes him steadily, loving the way Cas’ entire body reacts, his head thrown back as he rocks his hips forward.

“Gonna come,” Cas warns, choking back another moan. “Dean…”

Dean strokes him through it, dropping gentle kisses over Cas’ face as he shudders out his climax. Cas takes a second to catch his breath, and then his hands are all over Dean, running down his chest and his sides until they’re fumbling with the zipper of his jeans.

Dean presses his hips up, shamelessly presenting himself for Cas’ touch, and it only takes a few strokes until he’s coming while Cas whispers filthy, lovely things into his ear. Dean slumps back on the couch and pulls Cas close to his chest, too happy to care about the mess.

Cas rubs his face against Dean’s chest like a damn cat, and Dean knows he’s a goner because he finds it adorable as fuck. “Will you stay?” Cas asks.

“Yeah,” Dean manages to say around the lump in his throat. “Yeah, Cas, I’ll stay.”

Sighing, Cas stands up and grabs some tissues to clean them up, then leads down into his bedroom. They pull off their clothes, and Dean gets a better look at the ass he was admiring on the stairs earlier. Cas catches his gaze and flushes slightly, then deliberately bends over to grab a pair of clean boxers from his drawer.

“That’s just mean,” Dean complains.

Cas winks at him. “I think the calendar shoot was probably meaner,” he says thoughtfully. “It wasn’t intended to be sexual, really, but based on some of the comments on my Instagram post, I may have misjudged how it would be received.”

Dean laughs and accepts the boxers Cas throws in his general direction. “Definitely,” he agrees. “That picture prompted a whole lot of feelings on my end, let me tell you.”

“Really?” Cas says, and he sounds way too happy about it for Dean’s liking.

“Shut up,” Dean mumbles, climbing into bed. “It was cute, okay? And weird. And hot. And kinda scary.”

Cas turns off the light and gets into bed beside Dean, inching closer until he can rest his head on Dean’s chest and throw one leg over both of Dean’s. “I bet you want to see more of the outtakes, don’t you?”

Dean considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “Nah,” he says. “Looks like I’m lucky enough to get to see you naked anyways. And I think I prefer you _not_ covered in bees at the same time.”

“Okay,” Cas agrees sleepily. “No more bees. Except for the ones I’m keeping on the roof, of course.”

Dean groans, but tightens his hold on Castiel regardless. He’ll even take the bees if it means going to sleep like this every night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the naked beekeeper calendar exists. And yes, it's meant to show how cool and safe beekeeping is. 
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Wishing you all the best in 2017.


End file.
